So today is now two months that I've been lost in this giant city. I've had some interesting times the last few weeks and I hope desperately that I can describe them all to you accurately before I have to go to work.
Anyone that has ever met me has most likely met me while I was wearing my most prized posession, my Kansas City Royals hat. I'm a huge baseball fan, and spend entirely too much time obsessing about the Royals, even though they are the worst team in baseball (two years running). I wear my hat proudly and have done so for at least six years now. I always am delighted to see someone else show support for my favorite bunch of losers, and usually inclined to point out that I, too, am wearing my KC hat (because I usually am).
About a week ago now, I was on a train home from Brooklyn and was about to transfer trains. As the train came to its usually screeching halt, and as I waited patiently for the doors to magically open, I noticed a portly young gentlemen with a bright, shiny, new Royals hat on his pudgy head. I could feel the corners of my mouth stretching into a big smile. As I exited the train and he began to board, I casually made a comment "Hey man, nice hat!" Now, I can see how one might have taken my phrasing, out of context, as demeaning or rude. But I swear to you, I said it with a degree of elation in my voice that is usually only found in toddlers who are thanking their parents for the Tickle Me Elmo doll they just unwrapped from under the Christmas tree. I was flat out STOKED that this guy was wearing a Royals lid. And like any true New Yorker, he turned and looked at me (somehow not noticing that I was wearing the exact same hat he was) and said "Fuck You."
Last Monday, I started my new job as an art handler at the Noguchi Museum in Queens. The first day went off without a hitch. I have to be in Queens by 9am, so I have to leave my apartment at roughly 8am. Being that I hate mornings and struggle to rip myself from the comfort of my deep sleep, I have very little extra time in the morning to sit down to a well-balanced breakfast. So as I get into Queens early Tuesday morning, I exit the Subway Station to catch my bus transfer, the trusty Q103, to take me all the way to the museum. I noticed that I had a few minutes before the bus came barrelling down Vernon Blvd, so I popped into a deli and purchased a muffin and a pint of orange juice ("It comes in pints?!"). I must have timed it perfectly because just as I exited the afforementioned deli, the bus was seemingly waiting for me to board. I got on and sat down pretty close to the front. At this point, it was only me, the bus driver, and this old guy with the HUGE wrap-around sunglasses.
So I begin my meal, being a diabetic, by taking my blood sugar, calculating the correct amount of insulin and then, in crude terms, shooting up. Yes, there are needles involved in my process, and I never realized how other people might take it when they saw me shooting up. Forgive me for the graphic description to follow, but just as I inserted the needle into yhe region around my belly, the old guy pipes up with a "OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!!?!?!?!??"
I have to explain to you the weeny, whining, drawl this poor sap used when he spoke. Do you remember the Jerky Boys? They were huge back in the mid-90s or so, and they had a character named Sal Rosenburg who was a nerdy guy who complained about everything from his "hemmerroids" to how fava beans had made him ill. If you can place this character's voice, please use the sound of that voice to hear how this guy on the bus talked.
After I explained that I was a diabetic and was taking my insulin to the old man, he proceeded to tell me that he "came from the Optometrist," (apparently explaining the absurdly oversized sunglasses) and that "they told me I have no diabetes in my eyes." Of all the conversations to get into with strangers......
For my final installation, I'd like to begin by saying that northerners are generally much more rude individuals than southerners.
Mabe has been here for the last week or so, and it has been quite awesome to have a friend around. It makes me realize that I miss my friends and I am very happy to have her visiting. We got to go to the Mets game yesterday at Shea Stadium. It was her first Major League Baseball game and it was a blast that the Mets won 2-0.
As we're riding our series of trains home, the subway was packed. I was resigned to standing near the door because of lack of seating. I was not the only one in the doorway, much less the other doorways were also full of people. Generally, as people got onto the subway I would squeeze myself into the corner in an effort to make it easy for the people boarding the train to get into the doorway. As we got to the 59th Street station, a lady (who was the first to get on at that stop, with ten other people behind her) taps me on the shoulder and proceeds to complain "Don't stand in the doorway! It makes it hard to get on the train!" I told her that I'd work on that and as she walked away to a freshly untaken seat, she mutters "Asshole!"
Nobody that got on after her, including a lady carrying a baby palm tree, complained to me about my position in the doorway. Two of them even made fun of the lady's complaint and got me to giggle a bit. The lady huffed and puffed the whole time she was on the train and got off at 72nd Street, only two stops up.......why couldn't she just walk the thirteen blocks? Lazy.
So those are my most recent adventures. Until next time.
Same Crap Time, Same Crap Channel.
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